In the camping tent, a light has shown
In it, a silhouette being dances on
Pirouetting and jumping like a frying prawn,
It has pranced towards me a little more
Its blackness, a befuddling seemliness
At this dawn when the moon is off her business,
And the skies watch on in ghostly silence...
Come on silhouette, come on
A beautiful dance; no song
A little light flicker; you are dead gone
Come on silhouette, come on
Too much puzzle for hungry Chris Guzzle
Show thy face!
Which are you, a clay moulding or a tricky trick for my dangling brains?
Give me one last dance!
Give me one last chance,
You block of black behind the tainted fence.
My thoughts are drenched in salty sweat...
Drowning my mind in its ocean
Now quietly on the ocean's floor sits I...
Dull eyes, loose tie, sick smile...
But there it is,
Silhouette teases me in that tent there.
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